


Lovebirds - A Story In Three Parts

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Valentine's Day is meant for lovebirds - in one way or another!Covers span of time from during war, after war, several years later
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Lovebirds - A Story In Three Parts

Part 1. During the war - Stalag 13 - 

Finding the perfect Valentine's Day gift is never particularly easy, but trying to do it when 1) no one around you was doing anything about Valentine's Day, for obvious reasons - well, except for Hogan and the less said there, the better; 2) you couldn't actually let anyone know who your Valentine WAS - again, for obvious reasons; and 3) you were stuck in a German prisoner of war camp with limited sources for gifts in general - well, that just further complicated the business.

Andrew explained it all to Felix while in his underground lab mixing that last batch of super-duper remember-me-not sleeping pills for Hogan to use in one of his plans. Frankly, they were going through far too many of those pills for Andrew's comfort level. Sometimes he had to wonder just what their colonel was doing with all those pills; Hogan wasn't taking them himself, that was for certain; was too cautious (suspicious, wary, whatever!) to take even one! Andrew forced his mind away from that uncomfortable knowledge and back to the equally-uncomfortable (well, maybe not quite AS uncomfortable but at least more immediate) situation at hand.

"See, the Red Cross packages are late again, and if it's like the last time, the good stuff will already have disappeared by the time I open mine. And I DID have something special set aside, really I did! But then we needed to bribe Schultz a couple extra times, and the Colonel took up a collection; and after I found Hilda crying that day, I thought that last little package of sweet crackers might make her feel better, and it did, but that was the last of my stash. 

"Well, I do have that not-so-good chocolate bar left, but it's the kind you'd not give to your best friend unless he was really starving. You know, the kind of situation where you're okay with trading one ache in your gut with another. And none of the English guys want to trade any of their special stuff anyway, the stuff he really likes, and they'd ask me why, and what could I tell them? 

"I even tried to get one of those truffle thingies when I was making that message drop, since it seems those kinda translate across all the lines, and since the storekeeper is the contact, but that guy in the fussy hat got the last one! And as far as a Garibaldi biscuit, that's a no-starter too. Though why an English guy would get all misty-eyed over something that sure sounds to me like it's Italian, I don't know. Probably like he goes all soft thinking about something called 'bubble and squeak', I guess.

"I even thought maybe I'd hang out around the water tower and see if I could find a really great cockroach, one with real potential, since the one he used for the last two races got eaten. And, really, Felix? Cockroaches? Yech! I really don't know that you should be eating stuff like that! I'm sure glad I was the one who saw you, though, not anyone else, cause they might a snitched!"

Andrew sighed heavily, and dropped his chin into his hand, and looked woefully down the empty tunnel. What to do, what to do??

And then it was the 14th of February, everyone thinking of how they'd maybe be spending the time if they were back home, ready for a little distraction, any distraction.

"So, what was the best gift you ever gave someone for Valentine's Day?" Carter asked the room at large. It wasn't the best conversation starter maybe, but it was something, especially since no one else seemed interested in leaping that gap. And besides, he couldn't depend on anyone ELSE bringing up the subject, not just right, anyhow.

Peter flushed with guilt. He'd thought about what he might rig up to give to Andrew for Valentine's Day, but nothing had come to mind. Then, getting caught up in Hogan's last bit of monkey business had earned him a solid week in the cooler and there wasn't anything he could do about coming up with a gift from in there, now was there??! 

He'd thought that would make him feel justified, but now, listening to him making excuses to himself, all it did was make him feel guilty, like he'd screwed up, big time. 

Because here it was, the evening of the 14th of bloody February, cold and wet and dreary, and him without a blessed thing to even let Andrew know he'd remembered what the day was. 

Of course, Andrew hadn't given anything to him either, at least not yet, and HE hadn't been stuck in the cooler. Of course, weren't any shops around handy either, and from what the others told him when he got out, no one had been outside the wire all week either. 

And just because they'd given each other little secret gifts last year, that didn't mean it had to be a yearly thing. 

{"Could be 'e didn't even think of it. Could be 'e figured out it wasn't so smart even to be THINKING of doing something like that! Well, it's bloody well not, is it now??! Blimey, w'at the colonel would do if 'e ever figured it out, much less the krauts!"}. 

There was sensible, and there was foolhardy; and just why thinking Andrew had chosen the former made him feel so despondent, a little melancholy, he did NOT know. It bloody well made no sense! Bloody 'ell! Peter Newkirk, staunch graduate of the mean streets of London's East End paid no mind to such tripe! Turning into a real sad sack, he was!

He spared a quick glance over to Andrew, perched over on the bench. No sign of anything out of the ordinary, no secret message being passed by those innocent eyes, and Peter decided that was for the best as well.

{"Probably best I DIDN'T come up with something. Look like a bloody fool I would, giving 'im something and 'im not 'aving anything to give back. Probably just embarrass the 'ell out of him, not to mention myself."}

LeBeau told his story, Olsen his, then Kinch. Newkirk didn't remember ever giving anyone anything for Valentine's Day, not before that little quilted sleeping bag he'd given Andrew the year before, the one meant for that bloody mouse Andrew insisted on keeping around. And it wasn't like he could go mentioning THAT, now could he? So he hemmed and hawed around, then made up some nonsense that didn't sound plausible even to himself.

Andrew had a thoughtful frown on his face. "That all sounds really neat. I was wondering cause I don't know that I ever did anything really great, mostly some candy hearts and stuff like that."

Then his face brightened. "But I know what I think is the BEST Valentine's Day gift I ever SAW given was, and that was one my dad gave my mom one year! See, she'd been to visit a cousin and they'd gone to a pet store where they had lovebirds. There's different kinds, I guess, but these were real bright colors and made all kinds of sounds, and were cuddled up next to each other on their perches, two to a cage. Mom said the shop owner told her they mate for life, and she thought that was really neat. Of course, some other birds do too, but most aren't as little and cute as she said those were. Well, vultures, you know?

"Anyhow, she wouldn't stop mentioning them, and come Valentine's Day, here comes my dad with this big cardboard box. Seems he had a friend who was working in the city sometimes and dad went along sometimes to earn some extra money. Usually it went toward something we needed regular, like groceries or new shoes or stuff like that. This time though, he'd struck up a deal with a pet shop owner there to do loads of stuff for the guy in exchange for a pair of those birds along with a cage. Boy, you shoulda seen my mom's face!

"And they were a lot of fun! I mean, they didn't talk or anything, but they made all kinds of noises, and we'd try and figure out what the noises meant by how they were acting when they made them! There's a whole bunch. Here, I'll show you!"

And Andrew was off and running. They heard the sounds and what each supposedly meant, though to Peter they all sounded pretty much like a tiny squeaking door hinge, though the expressions Andrew forced his face into for each was amusing enough.

"And this one, this is the one where mom would get all pink and dad would get a little embarrassed. See, when they were making THIS sound, those two lovebirds would be cuddled up so close, sort of talking directly into each other's ear. Or where their ear would be if they had them, I guess, since they really just had little holes mostly covered by their feathers. But they'd be real involved, if you know what I mean. So we all decided - when they started doing this -" and Andrew let out with a sound, something that Peter reluctantly agreed did sound at least a little different than all those other sounds - "we decided they were saying 'I Love You'. 

"I think that's just about the best Valentine's Day gift I ever heard of, the one my dad got my mom," Andrew said with a wide contented smile. "I can still hear that, you know?" and he repeated that screechy sound, this time letting his innocent eyes meet Peter's directly, if only for a second or two, and then Peter realized those eyes weren't nearly as innocent anymore, neither was that tiny half-smile.

{"Happy Valentine's Day, Peter! I love you!"} hung in the air, invisible to everyone except the one who was saying it and the one who was hearing it.

{"Bloody 'ELL, Andrew!"} Peter froze, but just then Andrew's eyes shifted over to the door to Hogan's quarters, his shoulders tensing slightly. 

The door opened and Hogan breezed out, hair brushed to a dark shining perfection. 

"Promised our beloved Kommandant I'd keep him company. Seems he got confused and invited TWO lovely ladies to spend the evening with him, share a little wine, a basket of goodies from town, and he needs me to take up the slack. Well, and keep him from ending up with a wedding ring on his hand and one through his nose. Later guys. Make sure you're on time with lights out. Don't wait up for me; I expect I'll be late. Well, when duty calls and all that!" He patted his pocket, assuring himself he had his handkerchief, his comb, and one or two other essentials. "Oh, and Carter, tomorrow you better get me another bottle of those Sleepy-time Specials you put together; looks like I'm at the end of my supply."

Hogan was out and gone, probably for most of the night.

Newkirk let out a relieved breath, then drew his attention back to the problem at hand. {"Seems Andrew DID 'ave a present for me after all, and a bloody good one, and 'ere I am without a bloody thing to give 'im - - -"}

And then he stopped, drew in a satisfied breath, because he had been wrong. He had a perfectly fine Valentine's Day gift for Andrew, one the others might enjoy as well, which was one of those rare win-win situations you lucked into sometimes.

"Enough stories, don't you think? I'm in the mood to sing for a bit, if everyone feels like their ears might 'old up under the strain," he offered casually, swinging up into his bunk and perching there crosslegged. 

He doubted he'd get any objections, especially with Hogan being off and gone. Caeide had always liked it when he sang, as had Maude and Marisol, and the guys seemed to like it just fine as well. Andrew, well, he liked it particularly well, and if Peter chose the songs just right - - -

"Shhhhh! Listen! The Englander, he is singing!" The word spread fast, and soon, except for the wistful soldiers on duty at the guard towers, and even they were straining their ears in a vain hope of hearing a few strands of melody, every guard was hovering outside Barracks 2. They were watchful, never losing track of the fact that the Kommandant might come storming out wondering what on earth was going on, but still, they stayed and listened. Sometimes they'd understand the words, oftentimes not, but that voice was enough for any of them to enjoy, to take them away from the harsh reality of war to a gentler, simpler place and time. Ah, that voice!

And inside Barracks 2, every man lay back in his bunk and listened and smiled. Well, except for Andrew Carter; he was still sitting on that bench, his head uptilted as he watched Peter's face, the change of expression as the music flowed out and filled the room. And he watched Peter's eyes as they met his, smiled down into his, and along with the music heard the unspoken words {"Happy Valentine's Day, Andrew!"}

And with the last song of the night, the words were no longer left unspoken. Well, those ACTUAL words, yes, of course. But others that pretty well said the same thing? That last song packed them all in, right from the first lines, all the way to the last.

And laying in his bunk after lights out, Andrew smiled at the bunk overhead, in his mind hearing those words all over again, sung in the voice he liked better than any he'd ever heard before.

{"You ask how much I need you, must I explain?  
I need you, oh my darling, like roses need rain.  
You ask how long I'll love you; I'll tell you true:  
Until the Twelfth of Never, I'll still be loving you."}

And as he just started to drift off to sleep, Peter found himself chuckling at that tiny screeching trill from below.

{"Goodnight, Andrew. And, yes, I love you too!"}

Part 2. After the war - Haven - 

"Lovebirds, Andrew? I admit I don't know much about them but they mate in pairs, I believe. Or so I've always heard," Caeide still trying to wrap her mind around the early Valentine's Day present Andrew had somehow managed to convince a highly-amused Ian to deliver several days ago. Andrew's explanation had been unexpected and probably would have had animal behaviorists pulling their hair out, but still typically Andrew, if that made any sense. Well, his insistence that the 12th was just BETTER than the 14th for Valentine's Day puzzled her a little too, but she could only focus on one Andrew-issue at a time, especially that early in the morning.

She looked at the bright orange and yellow and green smirking specimen currently perched on the back of Andrew's chair. She hadn't figured out which was which yet, the six being more alike than not, never mind trying to determine their sex. She had experience with chickens and ducks and geese, but not these small creatures. Somehow, it seemed undignified even to try. (Andrew could have told her this was JP, but he had other things on his mind, like figuring out how to explain everything and still not have Peter totally freak out.)

"Yeah, I know, but I thought maybe they'd get past that. That's why I got three pairs. See, if I got just one pair, well, what'd be the point? And two pairs, they'd probably just stick together, and even if one did move over to join the others, well, that'd leave the other one all lonesome and that'd be sad. So, with three pairs, they could kinda, well, you know, be two three-somes if they wanted to."

Peter glared, trying to wipe the last delivery of white and green droppings from his dark hair. "And you keep letting them outta their cages, why?"

Andrew's eyes grew huge. "Well, for one thing, it seemed really mean to keep them locked up. That's cruel. I mean, especially for US, considering we KNOW what it's like!" His eyes were shimmering with a misty, slightly sad reproach. (Yeah, it was a knack. He prided himself on being able to use it to get Peter around to his way of thinking almost every time!)

Peter's glare didn't diminish one iota. Playing on his sympathies by comparing those bloody birds to the prisoners at the camp was a bit much, even for Andrew! The fact that it was working? That was just annoying as hell!

"And? I presume there's more?" he asked. He knew better, knew it would be best to just deliver a stern ultimatum, "put the bloody birds back in their bloody cages and leave them there!", but for some reason, his curiosity was just itching like crazy. He knew he was being played, KNEW it, but until that itch went away, he was vulnerable.

Andrew perked up considerably at the idea of being allowed to explain his reasoning. Well, that was how it worked, after all. Get Peter twitching with curiosity, then string it out, then WHAM! 

"Well, if they were in cages, they'd be stuck in pairs, wouldn't they? They maybe wouldn't understand the possibilities. They wouldn't be able to figure out if maybe they'd like something else, or someONE else, at least sometimes. I just don't think it's right for us to be making those decisions for them. How would you like it if . . ." and there was a long rambling spiel that, improbable as it seemed, cast Peter into the role of a wistful princess being forced, AGAINST HER WILL!, into an unhappy marriage with the cold and unloving prince her father had picked out for her. When there was someone else out there, just WAITING, maybe a COUPLE of someone's - who would, what was the phrase, rock her - uh, his - world!!!

Caeide tried to keep her lips from trembling with the urge to laugh at the flurry of expressions on her two men's faces. They were such a delightful pair, and played against each other beautifully. Sometimes there was more serious intent on one side or another, sometimes not, but it was always interesting, always entertaining, and frequently as stimulating as a good dose of summer-weed!

Peter sighed, "and?" He just knew there was more. {"Well, with Andrew, there always IS, isn't there!"}

Andrew's eyes just shown with innocence - a condition neither of his partners believed for one brief moment.

"Well, like I said, I figured they probably wouldn't figure it out on their own. So, they'd need a good example or two, show them the possibilities. But that means they'd need to be near us when we were in the mood to GIVE a good example or two. Yeah, sometimes that's out in the horse barn or in the orchard or other places, where they're not gonna be, but a lot of times, mostly even, it's in the house, just not in one room or the other. So this way, if they were out and free, they could just follow us around and watch whenever they wanted and could pick up a few pointers! And I think maybe it worked! I saw Myrtle and Cody and Berty kinda eyeing each other this morning!"

Peter's jaw dropped. Somehow that put an entirely different slant on the early morning's activities Andrew had initiated so successfully earlier that morning and at various other times in the past few days. His voice went up at least two octaves. 

"You mean I'm acting as a coach for those bloody birds to . . ." He imagined having to check the room for those beady eyes watching him every time he or one of the others started feeling in the mood, and he cringed. {"Talk about putting you off your stroke!"}

Josepha came winging his/her(?) way into the kitchen just then, visiting Peter's hair to make a fresh deposit on the way to join Danny, who was sitting on the Caeide's shoulder now. JP moved over to join them, squeezing in between. Caeide didn't even notice, she was too busy trying to catch her breath from laughing so much!

And eventually that all led to that odd carpentry project at Haven - the multiple openings that looked like they were intended to be an extended transom between several of the rooms. They were extremely wide, those openings, far more than you'd think the family could get glass to fit without spending a fortune. However, that wasn't an issue since glass was never installed, only odd wire cage-like constructs all joined together so that the feathered occupants could pretty much roam the family quarters as they liked, though still confined to their upper lofts. It was a good thing Caeide had designed the place with such high ceilings in the first place, otherwise there would never have been the room without forever bumping their heads.

Andrew was a little disappointed Caeide put the kibosh on including the downstairs as well, but she and the other ladies had strong negative feelings about birds in the kitchen. Well, he supposed it was hard to keep your mind on a particular recipe or on timing the biscuits when one of the various lovebirds might land on your shoulder or on the bowl, and that time JP almost ended up in the hot oven had scared Andrew (not to mention what it did to JP's nervous system!) enough he was willing to accept that stricture.

Peter hadn't been happy about the whole thing, citing the untidy bathroom habits of the creatures, but grudgingly agreed to the construction if it meant a solution could be found to him having to wash his hair a dozen times a day. There had been a brief trial of making the entire bottom of that construct solid, but that left the cleaning out a major daily project, and none of the rest of the family were inclined to volunteer. And Josepha and the others had triumphantly proved that any such tray wouldn't really handle the issue, since he/she/they knew just how to angle to drop a load through the side bars onto that dark head passing below. Funny it was always Peter who got their attentions, no one else in the family.

Somehow, though, that firm talking-to Andrew had delivered worked. Peter and Caeide had listened from the open doorway, not any too convinced this was the solution, but it turned out it was. Well, Andrew DID have a way with animals.

"Look, guys! I'm trying to make this work! I know teasing Peter is a lot of fun, but it's gonna get you locked up in those cages again, or sent off somewhere! So you gotta cooperate! See, this is the litter pan. You gotta use IT, not anywhere else! Promise!!!"

And if Peter occasionally looked up and found several sets of beady eyes avidly watching him and Caeide and Andrew, he learned to just turn his own eyes away and steadfastly ignore the audience. Now if he could just figure out how to ignore the bloody beasts copying those lovely little interludes, he'd rest much easier in his mind. Though when they came up with a variation he'd never considered, it was downright humiliating! Who'd ever have thought a bird could be that smart!

Part 3. Several years later - Haven - 

"What day did you say? Oh you sillies, Valentine's Day is the 14TH, not the 12th!"

Jamie and Louisa frowned in annoyance at that condescending laugh from Margaret, visiting townie cousin to the Rhys offspring, then shrugged dismissively. They didn't need any Outlanders telling them anything about Valentine's Day! No, it wasn't a Clan holiday, but it was one various of the Clan enclaves had adopted - at least the one at Haven and the one at the Cottages had. 

Well, maybe that snooty priss was technically right, but that didn't mean they had to pay her any mind! Didn't Uncle Goniff always say that holidays were more a state of mind than anything else? So, let the rest of the world go on thinking Valentine's Day was, HAD to be, on the 14th of February; no skin off their noses. To those at Haven, Valentine's Day was the 12th of February, at least most years, unless circumstances caused them to move it around some. The 14th had no real personal MEANING, not like the 12TH did, after all!

But how they celebrated? That was the same each year no matter WHAT the date. Oh, usual chores were done, of course, but outside of that?

Their Daddy Andrew would start as soon as the coffee pot went on the stove by giving Da and Mum their present, as usual. He would be bouncing with excitement. Mum said once that they daren't put off the gift-giving for fear Daddy Andrew might just explode with the waiting.

Da would scold and complain about "we don't NEED any more bloody lovebirds, Andrew!" 

Mum would eye the new additions and frown as if giving serious thought to the desirability of the gift, while smiling inside and mentally figuring out where to put this new trio of the winged symbols of the love the three of them shared. 

Of course, then they'd both give way, would laugh, hug Daddy Andrew and give him a big kiss and thank him for the annual reminder, and they'd all laugh some more and Daddy Andew would just about bubble over with having pleased them, and most likely almost immediately start thinking about NEXT year's present!

It had become easier after that first year, figuring out what to do with all the newcomers, since the newcomers were the non-living sort. (Caeide had done the math and after showing the tabulations to Andrew, even he agreed it could get overwhelming very quickly.) 

Afterwards he focused on what he thought was a viable alternative. Since then, there had been china lovebirds, clay lovebirds, glass lovebirds, painted lovebirds, all in sets of three. One year there had been that trio of nutcracker lovebirds bearing the proud label of 'Schatzie Toy Company, Original Design by Little Deer Who Runs Swift and Sure Through Forest'. Last year, the lovebirds had been lovingly handcarved by Daddy Andrew himself out of a piece of colorful tiger wood one of the Clan had managed to locate for him. 

It was fun counting the whole collection, each in their niches carved out of the wooden walls, each niche just big enough for that specific trio, trying to recite when Daddy Andrew had handed over that particular set. 

Of course, it was a lot of fun watching the (numerous!!) offspring of those original lovebirds in their aeire that ran aloft in the upper part of the big house. Mum had explained away their disappointment at so many unhatched eggs, telling them that was just the way with lovebirds, sometimes only one or two would hatch from a large number laid. Still, from that original six, there were now enough screeching, peeping, chierrping multi-colored birds to fill the entire house with sound, enough Daddy Andrew sometimes had to go and inform them "come on now, guys, time to settle down. I think you're getting on Peter's nerves". Or as Da put it, "tell them to bloody well shut their flippin' beaks, Andrew, before I start thinking of 'aving Maude put them on the menu!!"

Anyway, after the presentation of the annual lovebirds, Mum would lay on an especially nice breakfast, then pack lunches for Jamie and the others and they'd be off on a long morning ramble. In their earliest years, it had been with Maude or Marisol, but later it was on their own. They took the radios with them in case of trouble, but other than that, they knew not to walk in that back door til the stroke of noon. They knew to ignore the flushed faces and silly grins and such, too, the adults having gotten up to all kinds of merrimaking while the others were gone. Well, that was when Da and Mum gave Daddy Andrew HIS Valentine's Day present, after all, though they never said what that was, any of the three. Jamie and Louisa, eventually the other siblings, they didn't ask, though if they were really curious, they could just keep an eye on the lovebirds after to see if anything new had been added to the usual acrobatics and billings and cooings.

Afternoons involved naps, then lessons and chores, followed by a cream tea far beyond the norm. Then stories were told and exclaimed over and laughed over, and dinner was eventually served up. 

And the best was afterwards, when Da would take to singing, sometimes with Mum joining in. So many, most having become an annual thing. 

And the highlight of all the songs? 'The Twelfth of Never'. It had become their song, Da's and Daddy Andrew's and Mum's. 

Da had said once that it had been his and Daddy Andrew's first, then they'd shared it with Mum, not wanting her to be left out. That seemed about right; none of the three would be wanting one of the others to be left out of the loving. Just like one of those sets of lovebirds they were, the three of them, and so it would always be, all the way up to that Twelfth of Never the song told about.

**Author's Note:**

> Song - 'The Twelfth of Never' as sung by several, of course, but the one that fits best here is the rich version sung by Johnny Mathis. (Full lyrics online, this version on Utube) Yes, I know the song wasn't written til the mid fifties, but it was the one that inspired the original story.


End file.
